


last names

by hardkourparcore



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardkourparcore/pseuds/hardkourparcore
Summary: Even after traveling together for a year, there's one thing that isn't quite clear to Caspar.





	last names

**Author's Note:**

> first: credit where it's due. this fic definitely inspired by [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20367760) and [this fanart of said fic](https://twitter.com/Raginoiswatchin/status/1171737694076133376)
> 
> secondly: i'm going to write more of these two, so be ready.
> 
> edit/third: [RAGINO DREW FANART OF THIS FIC AND I LOVE IT](https://twitter.com/Raginoiswatchin/status/1192928274030243841)

When Caspar had said he wanted to see “Everywhere”, he really did mean “Everywhere”. They started in the rural outskirts of Hevring territory. The people there didn't even recognize Linhardt, and he didn't realize until that moment how much he liked that. They moved through Varley, Aegir, Bergliez, and into Daphnel, mostly avoiding larger cities.

The current inn they were staying in was too far between territories to be considered in one or the other, and was merely a traveler's stop in-between larger villages. They were the first customers they'd had in weeks, and the absolute quiet was nice and relaxing to Linhardt.

Not so much to Caspar, who was only sitting still now because he'd spent the morning beating the bark off of an unsuspecting tree outside for long enough to tire him out and come in for a water break. For now, he was staring out the window, listening to Linhardt turn the pages of his book.

Linhardt was lying on his stomach on the only bed in their room, waiting for Caspar to either cuddle up beside him, or mention that they should get going for their next nebulous destination.

Instead, when his attention was trapped by Caspar's voice, it was something else entirely.

“...Linhardt von... Mm, maybe.”

He was mumbling, enough that Linhardt couldn't make out the whole thing, but he could certainly find out.

“I'm right here, if you'd like to speak a little louder.” He glanced up lazily from his book to find Caspar bright pink. That always made Linhardt smile; Caspar was easy to blush, and attractive in color.

“It's... Nothing. Maybe it's dumb. Whatcha reading?”

Linhardt folded the page over and shut the book. “Oh no, you're not changing the subject so easily. What is it?”

Caspar glanced back out the window, propping his elbow on the window sill and pressing his hand into his cheek. “Just... thinkin'.”

“That's good news on its own. Continue.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just. Our names. That's what I was thinking of. Our names.”

“What about them?”

Linhardt stretched out horizontally, taking up as much of the bed as possible, before flopping back onto his back. For such a backwater inn, the bed sure was comfortable...

“Well... What would you want? Caspar von Hevring or Linhardt von Bergliez?”

Oh. Those names.

Linhardt turned pink himself. He stopped looking at Caspar, instead fixing his gaze on the ceiling above. Something dropped into his stomach and was fluttering around. They were just names... Their names, mixed up in a way that could only have one source, which they both knew rather... intimately.

The subject of marriage hadn't really come up between them. There wasn't a need to, in Linhardt's mind, because there was no doubt in his mind he'd be anchored to Caspar's side for the rest of his life, and he was just as certain Caspar felt the same.

Perhaps Caspar was feeling somewhat rebellious, then. As ex-noblemen, the rules were ingrained in them when they were young. Men could lay with men, but men could only have children with their wives, and as the former Hevring heir (an only child), he was required by these rules to eventually have a crest-bearing child. A marriage between them wouldn't be strange in the greater area of Fódlan, but it would have been scandalous to the “courts”.

Then again, all of South Fódlan knew Houses Vestra and Aegir were sharing their assets.

Perhaps Linhardt had been quiet a little too long, because Caspar offered other options, as well. “I thought of... Caspar von Bergliez-Hevring, too. Or Hevring-Bergliez. It doesn't really have a ring to it, so it'd probably be one or the other, unless you really wanted it.”

Linhardt sighed, pushing himself to sit up. He hadn't tied his hair back yet, and plenty of it began crossing his face messily. “We can't hyphenate our names, that's not how it works.”

“Yeah it is,” Caspar countered. “Like how the royal family is now the Fraldarius-Blaiddyd instead of just Blaiddyd.”

“...Did you forget what 'von' means?”

Caspar just stared at him blankly. That meant he either forgot and was waiting for Linhardt to explain, or he remembered and didn't know Linhardt's point yet.

“In Faerghus they picked their names after the elite they were descended from... And the places are named the same, but they were names first. If Adrestia had done that, I'd be Linhardt Cethleann. Our names came from our territories.”

Caspar nodded. “So maybe Caspar Cethleann.”

Even if Linhardt didn't so much like the sound of it, he smiled.

“Let me offer a solution. If you were to become Caspar von Hevring, that wouldn't make any sense. You're not from Hevring, and neither of us are planning on living there. We don't really even have a home right now.”

“...Yeah, that's right.” Caspar seemed a little crestfallen. Even at twenty-four, his pouts were adorable, somehow.

Linhardt pressed his hand to his chin thoughtfully, tilting his head in a way that made the hair fall from his face. It was hard not to crack a smile – it always was when he planned on teasing his lover.

“If I were to take a name after my current home... Well, Linhardt von Caspar just sounds outright strange.”

That got him pink again. Even if he was grinning from ear-to-ear over it. It did get Caspar to stand, cross the space between them, and settle down beside Linhardt, wrapping his arms around his waist. With Caspar around, he didn't need to support himself, and leaned into the other easily.

“You said you had a real solution, though,” Caspar pointed out. His voice always got so quiet whenever they were this close. Linhardt suspected no one else heard him be this quiet... ever.

“You wanted to see 'Everywhere'. We can be Caspar and Linhardt von Everywhere.”

Caspars fingers curled against Linhardt's hip. He liked it.

“Or, today, we can be Caspar and Linhardt von White Crick Inn. Or tomorrow, we can be Caspar and Linhardt von... wherever we end up.”

Caspar's arms wrapped tighter around him, and Linhardt allowed himself to be pulled even closer. His face ended up nestled comfortably in the crook of Caspar's neck, where he placed a small kiss.

“Everywhere,” Caspar repeated. “We get to share it.”

That tone of voice meant Caspar loved it. Certainly his stomach was doing the same sorts of acrobatics Linhardt's was attempting, even in the warm peacefulness of the moment. “And yet it's still uniquely ours,” Linhardt agreed.

One of Caspar's hands shifted in a familiar way that meant he wanted to look at Linhardt's face, and so he'd have to reluctantly untangle himself from fitting so nicely against Caspar, or feel the warmth of his body pull away slowly to sit even further apart. Linhardt did the work this time.

He found Caspar's face still flushed when he looked. He had that odd look between serious and something else... He was about to do something wonderfully heart-melting and embarrassing, wasn't he?

“So,” he started slowly, searching for words. Or maybe he had them already, and hesitated for another reason.

“Does this mean...”

Linhardt stared.

“I get to call you my husband, now?”

No sooner did the words exit his mouth than both of them were flushed red. Linhardt had half a mind to retreat back to Caspar's neck. Better, then, to hide his face.

But that wouldn't answer Caspar's question, and Linhardt wanted to give an answer, of course.

“Was there something preventing you from doing it before?” he asked, voice oddly level in comparison to the heat his face radiated.

“N-no, I guess not, actually.”

“You know,” Linhardt began again. He slid one arm around Caspar's waist, and crossed his legs in front of him. Perhaps a suave pose? It was easier for Linhardt to tease than be hit with the brutal honesty that was Caspar's affection. “I wouldn't say no to a proposal, or even a wedding. If you wanted to do things traditionally, I'd be open to it.”

Caspar didn't answer. He just smashed their lips together and knocked Linhardt back onto the bed. As good of a response as any; Linhardt relented.

When Caspar finally pulled away, a little breathless and a little more red around the lips, he beamed down at Linhardt.

There were two sides to Caspar; either crashing against Linhardt in an overwhelming reminder of how much he really _loved_ him; or the gentle sweetness as he clumsily showed Linhardt a side no one else got to see. The second half found Linhardt's hand at his side and laced their fingers gently, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Linhardt von Everywhere,” he said. “Marry me.”

Linhardt let out an amused breath. His free hand found Caspar's cheek. “Consider it already done, Caspar von Everywhere.”


End file.
